


No Second Guesses

by tielan



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Community: sg_ep_ficathon, Drama, Episode: s03e14 Foothold, Gen, Internal Monologue, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-23
Updated: 2011-04-23
Packaged: 2017-10-18 13:25:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/189321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tielan/pseuds/tielan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She doesn't have to trust Maybourne to use him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Second Guesses

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sg_fignewton](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=sg_fignewton).



> Written for the sg_ep_ficathon in November 2007 to the request "An in-between scene of Sam's initial escape from the mountain and her phone call to Maybourne, with some thoughts on how Teal'c trusts her to bring back help. Insight into why she chose Maybourne would be a plus."

Sam crouched in woodbrush and let herself rest.

Her escape from the mountain had been quiet - so far. The night had passed without comment.

Dawn was beginning to steal across the east, the faintest threads of purple-grey sky touching on the purple-black of night.

The first fifty yards down the mountain had been a crashing descent, mad and wild, with no thought other than getting away. She’d run like a rabbit, escaped from the trap in which she’d been caught, not stopping to consider her strategy.

Around the time she’d reached the first of the alert markers that dotted Cheyenne Mountain’s landscape, Sam realised that merely running would get her captured. The markers were put there to catch the unwary and unprepared who tried to get inside the mountain.

Frankly, she thought it amazing that she hadn’t hit any before then - and lucky that she saw the wire before she fell over it.

Cold strategy had taken over from that point.

Her feet hurt and her knees weren’t feeling too great. Her palms stung where she’d had to grab at the trees and rocks more than once as she slipped on some loose dirt and leaves and begun sliding down the hillside.

She wiped off the sweat on her brow, rubbed her hand along her fatigue trousers.

 _If wishes were horses, beggars would ride._ That had been one of her mother’s sayings. Strange how the thought of her mother didn’t hurt like it used to. She supposed she had the reconciliation with her father to account for it - that, and the encounter with the Tok’ra memory device and Apophis’ attempt to use her memories against her.

Sam wished her father was here. She knew what she should do and had a few ideas on how to achieve it, but she wasn’t sure if it was the _right_ course of action.

It irked her that, after years of questioning herself, she still had to second-guess her choices.

You are drifting, Major Carter. Remain focused on the situation.

Teal’c’s voice was heard only in her mind, a mental imagining, but the thought of him, calm and inexorable, got her back on track. He was running interference for her, giving her time to go for help. She hadn’t asked him to do it, he’d done it entirely himself, and he was counting on her bringing back help.

The Colonel and Daniel would also be counting on her. The _real_ Colonel and Daniel - not the copies that Sam had seen co-operating with the aliens so blithely. Sure, both men were willing to be convinced - Daniel more than the Colonel - but not without some show of reason.

The thought of them steeled her resolve.

She wasn’t about to let her team down.

Sam stood up and moved to the rough bole of an oak tree. The trunk gave her something to use as leverage to push back shoulders, rolling her joints in an attempt to ease the subtle aches and pains in her arms. From her vantage point, she estimated that it wasn’t more than half a mile to the edge of the mountain reserve that surrounded the Cheyenne mountain complex.

Her journey was barely started - she had to get out of Colorado Springs entirely, to someone who’d be able to help her.

The problem was, she didn’t know _who_.

She’d rested long enough. Time to move again. Sam took a deep breath and started on the last leg of her journey down the mountain.

 _How_ was the easy question. For every _how_ there was a list of _what_ , and Sam was trained in problem-solving. She’d work it out - or work around it if she needed to.

 _Who_ was the difficult question. Because her list of _who_ was very short and didn’t go very high up the command chain - not unless she wanted to break classification and tell someone who didn’t know about the Stargate - and that presented its own set of problems.

Step by careful step, she made her way down through the brush and scrub. Branchy fingers scraped past her trouser legs, dust shifted and slid beneath her bootheels, and the cold burnished her cheeks, but she concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other and getting down to the road that ran out of the complex.

With General Hammond compromised, she couldn’t rely on anyone up the chain of command - likewise, she couldn’t trust anyone she ordinarily would in such a situation. By now, General Hammond - or the thing imitating him - would have called his superiors to give the ‘status’ on the SGC’s situation. She might have been tagged as a danger or ignored - it depended whether Teal’c had managed to remain at large inside the mountain and what he’d told them if he’d been caught.

When on the run, paranoia is your friend, stupidity is not.

She’d forgotten who’d taught her that - who’d been the bestower of that piece of wisdom and practicality. A long-ago instructor? A senior officer? A mentor? A friend?

It worried her that she couldn’t remember, even with all the other thoughts spilling through her head.

She needed help from someone who had the power and connections to do something about the situation. Someone whom the SGC wouldn’t have contacted about poor Major Carter who’d gotten a whiff of crazy-juice and wasn’t acting too sane right now. Someone they’d _never_ think she’d go to.

 _Colonel Maybourne of the NID would help._

 _What? Are you nuts? Maybourne’s still pissed off about the way we messed up his black market ring!_

The voice sounded oddly like Teal’c in her head - a sense of weighty calm and cool decision-making _. Neither Generall Hammond nor O’Neill would expect you to appeal for his help._

 _No. But I can’t trust him._

 _Then do not. You know of Colonel Maybourne’s loyalties and motives. You know to be wary of him._

 _Enemy of my enemy?_ In her head, Sam couldn’t quite help a laugh.

Your saying is most apt. His stature in the SGC is such that they would not think to contact him for infiltration, Major Carter. Were you not seeking the last person to whom they would go?

The thing was, once past her initial instinct to recoil, Sam couldn’t help but think that it was a good idea. Maybe Colonel Maybourne wasn’t her first choice of ally, but any of her first dozen choices of ally would already have been co-opted by the SGC. To contact them would mean alerting the SGC to her presence and risk being brought in without even the opportunity to speak with someone who might believe her.

Getting hold of Maybourne would mean going an extra mile, though. She could probably call him from the Springs, but a face to face meeting would be best to argue her point - as well as underscore the importance of it - and she doubted that Maybourne would fly all the way from DC to Colorado just to have a conversation with Sam.

Sam stepped carefully over the tripwire hidden in the bushes - the second-last of the defences against trespassers on the mountain.

She had some contacts in Colorado Springs, people who’d be able to get her out of town to DC. It was a risk, but one she had to take. She could do more face to face with Colonel Maybourne - as well as anyone else she had to convince in DC - than she could by staying here. And the aliens didn’t seem to have a particular schedule as far as their takeover was concerned; they were more concered about being thorough in their invasion.

Which made sense. Work slowly, cover all angles, and don’t make any sudden moves. The best takeovers were either lightning fast or a slow poisoning. No guesses for which these aliens preferred.

A shiver ran through her as she remembered ‘Janet’s’ forceful gestures. She wondered if she should have left Teal’c in their hands. His symbiote both gave him strength and presented an essential weakness in his defences, and one for which they didn’t have an ultimate solution.

 _It is unwise to second-guess your actions, Major Carter._

Teal’c had spoken little of his time as Apophis’ First Prime, but he had mentioned the inadvisability of reconsidering his decisions. Fine, then. Sam wouldn’t second-guess herself. Damn the torpedoes, and full steam ahead.

The last defence loomed before her in the grey dawn - the wire fence that marked the edge of the Cheyenne Mountain complex.

Stage one nearly done.

Sam scraped through the heavy scrub that lined the fence and looked at the last barrier to the world beyond the mountain. There was a road about three hundred yards beyond the fence, one that ran down to the town. From there, she’d hitch a lift down the mountain and into Colonel O’Neill’s neighbourhood.

A quick break-and-enter, a small loan from the Colonel, a couple of phone calls, and Sam would be on her way to DC...and Colonel Maybourne.

The thought of springing for a cup of coffee and a wash was tempting, but Sam had a feeling that if she stopped to do that, she’d stop for a nap as well - time she couldn’t afford. Not when she’d left Teal’c in the mountain to face the aliens on his own. Not when she had a mission to complete.

You will succeed, Major Carter. You have my trust.

 _Damn right I will, Teal’c!_

Sam dug her fingers into the wire fence and began climbing.


End file.
